[Verse 1: T.I.]
Guess, who's, back, homes!
G shit, certified, nigga can’t touch him
Bosses all love him, haters, well fuck them
Bought cribs everywhere, everything custom
Lunn buns done, bougie bitches like “What’s them?”
Solitaire clear stones, Maybach, clear dome
Blowin’ on that loud pack, bankroll's full-grown
Well known convict, go on with the dumb shit
Thug life wit’ it, like it tatted on my stomach
Nigga better pick another number because I am not the one
The bigger picture's what's important before all is said and done
I bet I get this shit back up under my feet
Bullshit aside, what I want, I keep
I’m the big bad wolf, and I want my sheep
Your birthday cake, I want my piece
I’m beefing with MC’s at the meet
It seems they’re less than decent
I’m a beast, then you’re my feast
Apologies, you just can't keep it
Say you’re winning, yes you’re being
Condescending and facetious
G’s from sea to shining sea you may bump this in your Caprices
Bow!

[Verse 2: Yelawolf]
I once had a friend named Charlie, and Charlie was always late to school
He had a black eye one day, but he wouldn’t say just what happened to him
Charlie got mad in class one day, and stood up with a .22 pistol
Told everybody that he couldn’t take it anymore, he was over being the victim
See, one bullet through the wall, and the history class was interrupted
Charlie, foot down in the pool of blood in the class that made it public
He said that the bullies in school, they drove him to be a suicidal
Cause the mirrors didn’t reflect the criteria of an American Idol
Well, sometimes I feel like I could run through the hallways with an AK too
Not sayin’ that I would, but it might feel good, to off me a rapper or two
So, I loaded this pen with a hollow tip, and I followed T.I.P
To the hollow pits of my heart for shit for you to role model with
Take a fifth of Jack and swallow it, take a point shell and hollow it
Don’t be the one with the gun, be the one with the rum, plus two models with
All the kids, listen up, Yelawolf don’t give a fuck about a club
I don’t wanna see you in school, tryna’ do what I do, telling folks you gon’ pop the trunk
Make something of something, or something from nothing, baby wake up
Play radioactive, let me see the reaction, see if I really give a fuck
Shady

[Hook: Lil Jon, (Yelawolf)]
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, (still don’t give a fuck!)

[Verse 3: Crooked I]
9 millimeter, ride with a heater, drive with a liter
I’m finna need a mic and a speaker
I’m finna be the prominent leader, confidence-eater
Tell competition “Hasta la vista”
Dog, you putting my name in the middle of sucker shit
It’s something like you gettin’ raped by a stranger
Cause you do not know who you’re fuckin’ with
Crooked is a product of the S-L-A-U-G-H-T-E-R
You, "haha" funny, I had money when the DVD was a VCR
Niggas about to need CPR when they see the car, kill 'em, dead
Might pull over, fuck my chauffeur, cause I screw drivers: Phillips Head
Them I’mma tell her to take me to Yela, getting fucked up, I ain't feelin’ embarrassed
The feelin’ in the air is the 2.0's party, like niggas and wiggas in Paris

[Verse 4: Royce da 5'9"]
Nickle 9 a rider, rhyming, it's the drama, the driver, firing a llama
Got a bunch of fly bitches saying "Hi" to me now cause a nigga said "Hi" to Rihanna
Cause I look (cause I look) and I smell good (It’s a man’s world!)
That's right, I’m the new James Brown, drunk in an interview, fuck you finna do?
What I’m finna do is go to the strip club and order 8 bricks
I’m on my T.I.P. in A-T-L looking for a little pretty young thing I can 'scape with (Hold the car baby)
Radioactive, Shady gon' make it go Platinum, I couldn’t resist
To jump on that Slaughterhouse, Yelawolf, Lil Jon, Hard White remix!

[Hook: Lil Jon, (Yelawolf)]

[Verse 5: Joell Ortiz]
Lil Jon, let me get a lil' bit, I mean a minute, nothin’ crazy
It’s just that I’ma lyricist and I’ve been sittin’ with this ridiculous venomous bite
And I’m so ready to strike
I swing and I miss! My dick swing and you miss
I got a missile, can’t call it, I might misdial
I’m in orbit listening to Em’s last album guzzling gin: recovering alcoholic
Everything looking alright, welcome to the lyricist's pub, who want to bar fight?
In a bar so high cause you're dealing with 4 dope mufuckers and 2 hard whites
Deuces, period, crop circle
That's the family that matters, I’m not Urkel
But I’m smooth to step on, when I move to snap on
Your eyeball, your shit’ll look purple
I’m a product of the PJ’s, still walk through that motherfucker in my PJ’s
Yeah I’m in J.P. Morgan often but don’t think I could get chased out the PJ's
So try me punk, bet your body jump when this shotty pumps, have your body slumped
Yelawolf let me rip this hard white but, please don't make me pop the trunk

[Verse 6: Joe Budden]
Roll that window down and start dumping!
Pull up on whatever rock that y'all on
Pills got a nigga walking round doing stupid shit: my definition of an Oxymoron
That ain't never stop me from gettin’ a bad one
I would tell niggas again but they heard the story
Furthermore, he got a couple I ain't bust
But there's no need to rush, they reserved it for me
See I’m all about fam’, I don’t fuck with the rest
Goon’s that’ll squeeze 'til a couple is left
The squad, the facade, the sm-smoke and mirrors
Yellin' "Payback!", too broke to cover the debt, but I’m grown, adults
And whether that shit you say, you don’t reciprocate love or respect
You get plugged, and you're gon' need doctors to cover your holes as if they never loaded cassettes
You probably didn’t hear me, standing on the couch, get froggy, I'm breaking any bottle that's near me
So real I don’t need a hollow to prepare me
I’m the first one in the hood to catch a body using Siri
Cause they be thinking that I seem crazy, money-motivated, cremate me
Way out your league, go and dream maybe
T.I., Team Shady